


Red and Pink

by kokeshidynamo (hannyachan)



Series: Danganronpa: Ultimate Order [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mastermind Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Mastermind Owada Mondo, Mondo survives his execution AU, Self-Harm, Supernatural Elements, tags will be updated as more chapters are published
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannyachan/pseuds/kokeshidynamo
Summary: After Ishimaru spares his life and drops him from the Cage of Death, Mondo takes his seat in the control room.Direct prequel to triggerhappyhope's"When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?"
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Series: Danganronpa: Ultimate Order [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837957
Comments: 3
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

The Cage of Death lit up like the sun.

What a fitting end for Oowada Mondo. Strapped to a motorcycle, paraded like a circus animal. Death by adrenaline and the blinding lights that possessed him, kept him on his heels and shone behind his eyes. He’d spin and spin and spin until there was nothing left of him, as if he’d never been here at all. And yet there he was, the man who’d made it all happen, curled up on the ground with a bloody lip and caked dirt on the fabric of his kneecaps.

_“BRING HIM BACK! I’M S- I’VE FAILED YOU! I MADE THIS HAPPEN! TAKE ME INSTEAD! TAKE ME TO DIE WITH YOU!”_

Ishimaru Kiyotaka was crumpled on the tarmac, rocking himself back and forth, tears streaming down his face. His fists had balled up white. His nails were frayed and his fingertips were raw from grabbing at the wire that separated him and the monster he had created.

The lights grew brighter. The Cage began to smoke.

_“PUT ME IN HIS PLACE! I DESERVE TO DIE MORE THAN HE DOES! DROP HIM! I SAID **DROP HIM! GET HIM OUT OF THERE!** ”_

Upstairs, the Monokumas on duty sprung from their seats upon hearing their command word, mashing at the buttons on the control panel with all the strength of their stubby little arms. “Drop him!” they babbled. “He said _drop him!_ ”

“But what comes out of the other end in place of him?” one asked.

“I don’t know!”

“Noodles? Strawberry jam? Butter?”

“It’d be a riot to watch the Supreme Commander cry over pancakes.”

“You’re a genius, Monokuma!”

“Don’t call me a genius, Monokuma. Geniuses are losers.”

――

In his fiery primordial egg, Mondo remembered everything.

* * *

_Before he was Oowada Mondo, he was a nameless punk in a nameless apartment in a nameless city, where every day you felt neither closer to nor further from death._

_He fed the dog. He threw some stones at some windows, sometimes. He walked the dog. He dug his heels into the ground and braced for impact. He didn't even fight back. And when they'd all gone to sleep, he came out and licked his wounds. Like the dog._

_Chuck was always hungry. He'd ram himself into his owner's ankles over and over until he got a treat. Then he'd fall asleep. He snarled in his dreams, like he wasn't a fucking palm-sized Maltese with a pink chewy rat toy._

_In those nebulous moments of safety, he’d listen in on the neighbour’s kid. He’d hear shouting, then the harsh sound of a palm against a cheek, then the dragging of furniture on the ground that made him wince. Then the door would slam shut, and out **he’d** march, fists balled at his sides, to his motorcycle._

_His name was Oowada Daiya, and he was a fucking **hero**._

_Daiya had lots of friends. They’d meet him in the driveway where his bike was parked, bumping fists and revving engines. Daiya would lead them out the gate and away they’d soar, honking and whooping, like Peter Pan and his Lost Boys._

_He wasn’t one of them, and he knew he’d probably never be. But his mind would wander, and he’d see himself on the back of Daiya’s bike, hair flowing in the wind._

――

Mondo awoke in a metal chamber, clutching his head and hissing.

 _Ah, yeah. He'd killed him. Not some freak accident, but he'd actually killed him. His head in a bag and everything._ He would've laughed, if not for how much everything fucking hurt.

_This was Ishimaru's game, wasn't it?_

He tossed aside the tiny sofa cushion those pesky little assholes had left waiting for him, and slammed his fist against the iron wall.

_**"MONOKUMAAAAAAA!"** _

――

_When Oowada Daiya stormed out his door for the last time, a little boy followed him from the next house, bags in tow. He carried a puppy._

_“Take me with you!” he insisted._

_Daiya smiled at him, grimacing as he felt the bruise on the corner of his mouth. “What’s your name?”_

_“I don’t have a name yet,” the boy said. “But this is Chuck!” He held up the puppy, which gave a soft yap._

_“Well then,” Daiya chuckled, reaching out to smooth down the boy’s crispy black locks. “I don’t really know where I’m going, either. But we’ll find somewhere.”_

――

_“Daiya?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Can my name match yours?”_

* * *

The stuffed bastards carried him up to the control room, where he now sat slumped in a chair, clutching an ice pack to his forehead.

“You know,” he panted, “this isn’t gonna help. Get me another one. And maybe a painkiller. A beer. God, _anything_.”

A Monokuma in a frilly pink apron shot up and saluted. “Yes, sir! Would you like something to eat?”

“I don’t know, whatcha got?”

“Fresh pancakes, sir!”

All the Monokumas in the room instantly doubled over laughing, slapping their stomachs and rolling on the ground in an unholy chorus. “ _Upupupupupupu! Puhuhuhuhuhuhu!_ ”

“What’s so funny?”

Mondo turned back to the nearest surveillance screen, where footage of his execution was playing, and hit pause on the last second. “What’s……” his voice trailed off. “...... _Oowada Butter?_ ”

_“UPUPUPUPUPUPUPU! PUHUHUHU! OOWADA B-BUTTER! THEY THINK WE T-TURNED HIM INTO BUTTER! UPUPUPUPU!”_

_“HOW THE FUCK WOULD I TURN INTO BUTTER?”_

“They bought it! T-they totally bought it! Oh god, they think we _ate_ him!”

“I c-can’t believe it’s- it’s not butter!”

_“GODDAMMIT, IT ISN’T FUNNY!”_

A small army of Maidokumas burst into the room, carrying silver trays and maple syrup jugs. The smell of pancakes filled the air, making Mondo’s stomach grumble. Damn, he hadn’t eaten in half a day, had he?

“I’ll get some.”

One Monokuma shrieked so loudly he fell over and got stuck under the table.

――

He played the recording over and over again, eyes following the motions of the bike. He watched Asahina cover her puffy eyes and then uncover them again, not willing to watch but not being able to look away. He watched Ogami press her fist into the ground so hard it formed a round dent, like a meteorite crater. Kirigiri was unfazed, but paler than usual, and Naegi’s hands shook as he held back tears.

Watching himself die felt strange.

Ishimaru was huddled on the ground throughout the entire ordeal, screaming and sobbing. Every now and then he’d attempt to tear out the wire netting of the execution set-up, and when that didn’t work he’d try to tear out his own face.

The Monokumas watched along with him, nodding to each other in the darkness.

“H-hey. Hey.” Mondo spoke halfway through his sixth viewing, throat dry. “D-do you think he knows I made it? I mean, he spared me, right?"

“I don’t think so.” The nearest Monokuma’s eyes glowed. “He thinks you’re French toast.”

_“What did you say?”_

“N-nothing, sir! It’s 10pm, sir! We will go on patrol soon, s-sir!”

Mondo noted Ishimaru’s military influence on his “progeny”, and his heart buckled under the weight. “Hey.” He swivelled around in his chair, turning towards the Monokumas. “Check up on him for me, will you? Tell him I'm here if you can."

“We can’t do that! There’s someone in his room!”

Mondo’s eyes widened, and his head snapped back towards the surveillance screens, frantically searching for the right one. His hands flew towards the control panel. “Goddammit, I don’t know how to use these things! Only Ishimaru knows how to! Jesus fucking Christ, which one is it-”

“The fifth button from the left, sir! The one with the Supreme Commander’s face on it!”

“Okay, _okay!_ Fuckin' hell-”

Silence fell over the room as Ishimaru slowly flickered into view. He was seated upright in his bed, fully dressed save for his boots, with the sheets pulled up to his chest. His face was pallid, still bearing the haunted expression that Mondo had seen on him earlier, and his lips were parted as if the air had been drawn out from him at once.

The other person in his room, seated at his bedside with Ishimaru’s hand in a death grip as if to stop him from floating away, was Naegi Makoto.

Mondo’s knuckles involuntarily went white.

“Sir! Sir!” came the tiny voice of a technician Monokuma. “You haven’t switched on the sound! It’s t-” A fist came slamming down on the volume button, and Naegi’s crisp, clear voice cut through the air.

_“-not your fault, Ishimaru-kun! You didn’t see it coming, did you? And you didn’t cause it, either! So why are you so hard on yourself?”_

_“B-because I…… didn’t stop him. I let him k-kill-”_

_“Ishimaru-kun, you didn’t! None of us knew this was going to happen! It’s alright to grieve, but this isn’t your fault!”_

_“You don’t see the full picture. I am to blame. N-nobody else.”_

_“How, Ishimaru-kun? How?”_

Silence. Then, quietly from Ishimaru, in the ghost of his voice: _“Naegi-kun, could you please…… stay h-here for the night? I d-do not wish to be left alone with my thoughts.”_

_“Alright then, Ishimaru-kun. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Especially now, when you’ve already been through enough.”_

_“I’ve got a spare mattress-”_

He was drowned out by crashing furniture, and the twittering of several Monokumas as they dodged like startled birds. The sound was violently cut off, and the impact echoed through the control room.

――

_Oowada Mondo was sick of riding behind his brother._

_He wasn’t even his **brother** , and he wasn’t even **sick**. Those words felt too simple, used on a man who had been pretty much everything to Mondo since he was nothing._

_Daiya had been father and brother, leader and student, god and conqueror. Mondo himself had been created in his image. He was high enough to be unreachable. And what was **he?**_

_Daiya was still everything, while Mondo was still nothing._

_Whenever Mondo saw him up front, Crazy Diamonds flag billowing in the wind, he’d see red and pink. He’d crush the throttle, as if squeezing the life out of him._

――

In the night, the Monokumas returned from their patrol to find Mondo still awake, eyes glued to the surveillance footage of Ishimaru’s room, twitching at every move. Sniffing for blood.

He was almost certain he could feel Chihiro’s spirit passing by, back to witness the cause of his own death.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ultimate Order had been less than a year old when the Mad Dog joined its ranks._

_The Mad Dog, as they called him, had once been second-in-command of Japan’s biggest biker gang, behind his brother. Then one night he’d murdered him and brought his head to the capital, trailing acid pink all the way to his new master._

_From then there was nobody but Ishimaru. Ishimaru would set him loose on anyone he felt deserved to be reduced to hair and bone, and he would comply, snarling and baring his teeth._

_The Mad Dog might have once been human. But now, he was a creature that knew only instinct. By day he prowled the streets, following that primal voice lodged deep in his head that told him what to kill and what to chase. By night he slept curled up with one bloodshot eye open, guarding the only thing he had left._

* * *

Electricity seeped through his skin, and his eyes flew open.

Mondo jolted awake to the soft sounds of piano music echoing down the corridor. The door of the control room was open, and he was alone. Instantly, he shot upright in his chair, head still spinning.

"Who's there?" he rasped. His palms landed heavily on the control panel to steady himself.

The music stopped, and was followed by an unmistakable voice.

_"We, Ultimate Order, will keep society's best interests in mind."_

Mondo stepped into the hallway.

 _**"We, Ultimate Order, will keep society's best interests in mind!"**_ repeated at least three hundred Monokumas.

Oh god, they were _everywhere._

All the rooms on the top two floors were packed with the little demons, in orderly little grids of eight by six. The Monokumas occupied two storeys' worth of staircase and corridor, all with their chubby faces turned towards a massive projector screen that hung in front of the control room.

Playing on the projector screen was a recording of Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Ultimate Order himself. He was superimposed on a backdrop of dappled sunlight and cherry blossoms, which did nothing to soften his swirling red eyes, foghorn voice, or the stern crease in his brow. _Daily Pledge_ , the title card under him read.

_"We will ensure our best effort goes into improving and bettering our nation!"_

_**"We will ensure our best effort goes into improving and bettering our nation!"** _

_"We will uphold a standard of morality that no one must be exempt from."_

_**"We will uphold a standard of morality that no one must be exempt from!"**_ A number of Monokumas tried to hold in giggles, their shoulders shaking. An audible snort was heard from the back row.

_“We will be objective in judgement and practical in action!”_

――

5am came, then 6am, then 7. One by one, the lights in the students’ rooms flickered on, and the surveillance footage came to life.

Yamada was up the earliest, sprinting to the kitchen with a recipe book tucked under his arm. _Fine French Dining_ , it read. Kirigiri stared at the fan for half an hour, deep in thought. Hagakure spent a really long time in the bathroom. So did Togami. Asahina changed out of her pyjamas in the open, visible to the cameras, and Mondo had to avert his eyes. Monokuma made his morning announcement.

Ishimaru wasn’t awake yet.

Fukawa braided her hair with shaking fingers. Ogami stretched. Celestia sat up and pinned her extensions to her head. The lights came on in Ishimaru’s room, and Naegi shuffled over to the bed. After some consideration, he placed a hand on Ishimaru’s shoulder and shook him gently.

“Ishimaru-kun, it’s almost 7:30. It’s time to get up.”

He didn’t stir. Curled in a fetal position, Ishimaru was dead to the world. The thought alone filled Mondo with a heavy, suffocating dread he didn't understand.

“Come on, Ishimaru-kun. Everyone’s waiting in the dining hall.”

He glanced at the door. “Wait right here.”

Naegi put on his shoes. Mondo zoomed in on him as he jogged towards the kitchen, raising a hand in acknowledgement of everyone in the dining hall. He filled a bowl of rice from the rice cooker, then ladled himself some miso soup and a tiny saucer of pickled vegetables. A cup of green tea was added to the steaming tray before it was carried down the corridor to Ishimaru’s room.

“Ishimaru-kun, I brought breakfast.”

Ishimaru wearily cracked an eye open. “No food in the rooms," he croaked.

――

The Monokumas gathered around Mondo as he flipped through Ishimaru’s notes.

_In case of damage, nine more copies are available in the Control Room._

“Wow,” he muttered. “Hardass, isn’t he?”

 _EXECUTIONS_ , he read. _In cases of severe misconduct such as being found responsible for a murder, the student will undergo their designated execution. Each execution is personalized, and they are not interchangeable under ANY circumstances. However, if the need arises, several multi-use punishments are also listed._

_All remains will be transported to the morgue for storage immediately following the execution._

_Kuwata Leon: The 1000 Blows._

_Maizono Sayaka: Final Performance._

_Hagakure Yasuhiro: 30% Chance._

_Fujisaki Chihiro: Super Fujisaki Bros._

_Asahina Aoi: Feeding Frenzy._

_Celestia Ludenberg: The Burning of the Versailles Witch._

_Oowada Mondo: The Cage of Death._

The list stretched on, accompanied by sketches of shark tanks and massive snow globes, conveyor belts and killer baseball machines, all in Ishimaru’s neat print and excruciating detail. There was an additional sentence scribbled into the margins: _If the student must be removed midway through their execution, each set-up contains at least one escape route, which opens upon the use of a command word._

_STUDENT PROFILES. The Hope’s Peak Killing Game has fifteen participants, all belonging to the former Class 78. By the end of the game, speculated to take place in July, the remaining number is predicted to be around six._

_Besides myself, Ogami Sakura will stay in regular contact with the Control Room. Her dorm room is fitted with a microphone that allows her to provide information when needed._

_I have indicated the names of several students. Special attention must be given to their developing roles in the Killing Game. They are: ** ~~Fujisaki Chihiro~~** , **~~Maizono Sayaka~~** , **Ogami Sakura** , **Naegi Makoto** , **Kirigiri Kyoko** , and **Asahina Aoi**._

Why the emphasis on Naegi, in particular? His name was circled and highlighted. _And why the special attention?_ , Mondo wondered. He remembered Ishimaru telling him something about assistance. Maybe Fujisaki wouldn’t make it long without help, but surely someone like Ogami was more than physically capable of surviving in the Killing Game.

Fujisaki, yeah. Puny little guy. He wouldn’t make it.

He never had a fighting chance.

――

_The target lay hidden in an abandoned news tower, on the outskirts of Tokyo. They called themselves Freedom Project, and they had hacked into several branches of the Ultimate Order intranet, distributing classified information to their enemies. Naturally, Ishimaru had sent Mondo after them._

_As he approached the doors, the soldiers hopping off their truck behind him, Mondo tapped his comm and looked up at the red sky. “Now?”_

_Ishimaru, seated at his desk, gave an affirmative nod. “Go on.” He set his brush back down in its holder, and his eyes burned into the screen._

_The doors were kicked down. The soldiers overran the building. Bodies piled, and pink painted the ground. The walls pulsed with gunfire, and it all went straight to Mondo’s head. He caught a gray-suited man in the back of the neck with his pickaxe and he went down like a crash test dummy, twitching and rattling. “You seein’ this?”_

_“Find her.” Ishimaru sounded breathless. “The center of this operation.”_

_Mondo stepped over the carnage, blood rushing in his ears. A plucky last member lunged at him with a dagger, and was quickly stopped with a slash to the abdomen. He ripped the last door off its hinges, and purple met wide, watery green._

_There, bathed in the glow of several computer screens, was Fujisaki Chihiro._

_He knew her._

_“Oowada-kun,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please don’t do this.”_

_Mondo’s pupils narrowed. His fangs gleamed._

_He brought his pickaxe down on her head._

_“OOWADA, **NO!** ” Ishimaru’s voice rang out from the comm, freezing Mondo in his tracks. The tip of the blade hovered centimeters from Fujisaki’s skull._

_“Don’t kill her. Bring her back here.”_

――

_Fujisaki stood his ground during questioning, while imprisoned, all the way till the very end. Even after his memories were erased, and he was thrown into the Killing Game._

_Fujisaki didn’t break things, he fixed them. He didn’t lose himself, he held on. He carried himself with a quiet strength. How could he possibly have come to Mondo for help?_

_Next to him, Mondo was inhuman. A lumbering beast that did nothing but run away with its tail between its legs. And, like a beast, he’d torn Fujisaki to shreds the next time he had been at his mercy. Left him bleeding out on the floor._

_Without his memories or his power, it was clear. What had emerged that day had been the **real** Oowada Mondo, a scared animal wearing the face of a man. The voice inside him was nothing but the howling of the wind._

――

One of the surveillance cameras began to buzz, the footage growing shaky. Mondo struck the console, and his palm stung.

* * *

Naegi stayed in Ishimaru’s room for the second night in a row. Mondo watched, and the burning in his chest threatened to swallow him whole. He hit a button.

He sent a Monokuma unit into the room, which crept up to Ishimaru’s bedside and gently stunned him awake. It tapped out a message in Morse code.

**_I AM ALIVE. I AM HERE._ **


	3. Chapter 3

_“Alright, schmucks! I’m out of ideas! Two trials and four bodies later, you’re all still holding hands! Though it’s only a matter of time before things really get interesting. You all just need a little push. And what better motivation than the root of all evil?”_

Mondo, up on the fourth floor, glanced at the notes. “Ten billion yen?”

The Monokuma in the gymnasium pushed a button, and cash rained down on the students. _“Ten billion smackeroos! Anyone who kills and gets away with it gets this big ‘ol pile of money!”_

“Where did we even get _ten billion yen?_ ”

A Monokuma came up behind Mondo with a wide, sinister grin. “It was a donation, sir!”

“From who?”

“From Togami’s credit card when he got here, sir!”

“How does ten billion yen fit in a _credit card?_ ”

“We don’t question it, and neither should you! But we found it, so it’s ours now. Finders keepers!”

Onscreen, gasps and exclamations came from the students. Hagakure scooped up several bills and slipped them down the front of his shirt, whistling. Togami frowned and pressed a hand to his pocket. _“My credit card,”_ he muttered. Ishimaru shifted his gaze towards the camera hanging over Monokuma’s head. For a moment, his hollowed eyes locked with Mondo’s.

The console beeped. Mondo ignored it.

“Sir, you’ve got a video call.”

“Video call? What video call?”

“It’s from Enoshima Junko, sir.”

“We don’t even have internet! We don’t even have a fuckin’ _phone!_ ”

“The Killing Game is _livestreamed,_ sir.”

“Whatever. Tell Enoshima to go home or something, I don’t wanna see her. Especially not right fuckin’ _now_. She’ll just make everything worse.”

“We’ve saved your life twice, _puppy_ . The first time, I was nice enough not to blow up in your face. The second time, we dropped you before you were roadkill. Take the call, _sir_.”

――

The call connected, and Mondo found himself facing a live studio audience.

“And here he is! Let’s give a warm welcome to Oowada Mondo!”

A woman in the front row screamed and clutched her chest. “He’s dead!”

“No, he isn’t. He’s right here. Say _hiiiiiii_ , Oowada Mondo!”

“Enoshima, why the _fuck_ did you call me?”

The audience exploded, shrieking and cheering. Someone threw a pair of frilly panties, which hit the corner of the screen. The woman collapsed. A security guard rushed into the frame and propped her up in her seat, then popped a pair of sunglasses over her closed eyes. Enoshima, in a white mink coat that threatened to swallow her up, stuck her head in front of the camera. Her massive blond pigtails swayed. “See?” she announced, in her syrupy voice. “Not even a scratch! Oh, his cheekbones are _beautiful_ , aren’t they? I’m so glad nothing happened to him!”

“Enoshima, _why the fuck did you call me?_ ”

“To know what’s going on with Ishimaru, duh! Why’d he suddenly bow out?” Enoshima dipped a hand into her coat and pulled out a pair of steel-rimmed glasses, dropping them on her nose with a flourish. “We need _all_ the details. Does he still think you’re dead? Who do you think will go next? _What happened in the sauna?_ ”

“Why would _you_ need to know?” The audience stirred, nudging each other and giggling.

“Because Despair Studios is licensed to give commentary on the Hope’s Peak Killing Game.” She held up her rhinestone-covered microphone to the camera. “Tell me, did someone get their _pancakes buttered?_ ”

Behind Mondo, Monokuma was in hysterics. “ _Upupupupupu!_ Now _that’s_ a good one! Really, though. What happened in there? I’ve never seen the footage!”

“Ishimaru probably kept it,” someone in the audience yelled, “for _further reviewing._ ”

“Sad we can’t ask him. He was always so cute when we gave him questions like that.” Enoshima propped up her glasses with a French-tipped nail. “I don’t think he’s going to make it long like this, either. I mean he’s always been an overachiever, but I’ve never seen someone go through all five stages of grief at once!” In a flash, the glasses were off, and she was curled in an armchair, legs pulled up to her chest. She dabbed at her face with a spotted handkerchief, looking up at the camera with glassy eyes. “W-what will we do? We c-can’t live without our Supreme Commander!” The audience sniffled quietly, waving identical handkerchiefs.

“Enoshima, _nothing_ happened in the sauna. And Ishimaru is perfectly okay.”

“Then why was Naegi Makoto in his room?”

Mondo’s fist tightened, and Enoshima noticed. “We all saw it!” she continued. “Poor Ishimaru! But it’s alright, Naegi’s t-there for him. He’ll move on soon. We moved on from dear Mukuro, d-didn’t we? She was m-my sister!” The audience wailed, and the front row blew their noses loudly. “We’ll never forget Mukuro!” shouted somebody from the back.

“Whatever happens to Ishimaru is none of your business, Enoshima. Back the _fuck_ off.”

Enoshima’s head snapped back up, and her tears vanished abruptly. She looked into the camera. “What about you?” she asked, with a glossy smile. “Would you die for anybody?”

Mondo cut the call. “Buh- _bye!_ ” he heard Enoshima call after him, as the screen faded to static. “Monokuma,” he growled. The bear was still shaking with barely suppressed laughter. “Do me a favor. Open the windows. I need some fuckin’ air, it’s getting to me.”

“Supreme Commander says no opening the school under any circumstances!”

“Right. _Riiiight_. Just put me back in that killer hamster ball, wontcha?”

Monokuma put his paw to his chin, as if genuinely considering it. "I could arrange for that, sir."

――

Naegi Makoto had gathered everybody outside the locker room for some reason.

“Guys,” he said, “Asahina found something in the locker room. Why don’t we all go in and take a look?”

Asahina covered her eyes. “I s-said it was a ghost! It looked just like Fujisaki. D-don’t go in and get spooked! I’m warning you!”

“It’s alright, I don’t think it’s a ghost. And if we all go in we can all make sure, right, everyone?” He looked up at his classmates. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Togami sniffed. “If you say so.”

――

_If Maizono Sayaka was psychic, Naegi Makoto was omniscient. He was five foot three and didn’t have an Ultimate Talent. But everywhere he went, people were drawn to him like moths to a warm lightbulb._

_Mondo met him two years ago, when he’d found him on the roof, puffing away on a cigarette. He’d shook his ash-stained hand. “Are you Oowada Mondo?”_

_“I’m Naegi Makoto. We’re in the same class, aren’t we?” His voice was bright and golden, like a bell. Mondo felt distinctly like he was being Pavlovian trained. He didn’t reply, watching smoke curl up through the air._

_“......If you want, we can introduce ourselves to the class at the same time. Just to make things easier. They’re downstairs, you k-”_

_“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t care. Go look for a charity case somewhere else.”_

_“O...okay then. Just…. if you ever need to talk.”_

_He had been buddy-buddy with Ishimaru. Hell, he had been buddy-buddy with_ **_everybody_ ** _. Even in the Killing Game, the students seemed to rally around Naegi without thinking. The_ **_Killing Game_ ** _, where they were actively encouraged to maim and murder and betray each other. He didn’t get it. Maybe Naegi had a secret talent for bending reality. It made no sense at all._

_Ishimaru, in his notes, had named him the Ultimate Hope._

_Naegi puzzled him. How was it that someone could possibly make hordes of people follow him off a cliff without even trying? It was a wonder that Ishimaru had never told him about Ultimate Order, nor had he recruited him. Had he been in Ishimaru’s inner circle before Mondo had, Mondo wouldn’t have stood a chance._

_Naegi would have seen through his power grab immediately._

* * *

The night crept upon him. Mondo swore he saw blood on the walls. A trail of stinging fuchsia led out of the control room and into the corridor, as if a body had been dragged out.

Ishimaru slept alone for the first night since Mondo’s “death”. He trembled in his sleep, his blue lips pressed together. Every now and then they would form a shadow of a word, _I_ and _him_ and _where is he_ and _go away_. He’d connected several belts together and strapped himself to the bed, and was clinging to it so tightly that his fingertips bruised.

 _Why?,_ Mondo wondered. Something sneaked past him, across the floorboards, and he smelled iron.

_Who’s there?_

He looked back at the screen.

Ishimaru was on fire.

――

A crash came from the data processing room, as Mondo pushed a computer monitor to the ground. A chair went spinning out the door.

**_He had to get to Ishimaru. He had to get to Ishimaru. He had to get to Ishimaru-_ **

The Monokumas chased after him as he thundered down the corridor, towards the hatch that led to the students’ dorm rooms. “No, sir, you can’t!” they shouted, their voices merging demonically. “It’s only one in the morning! You’re supposed to be dead! You’ll blow our cover! Supreme Commander says the mastermind must stay on the upper floors at all times!”

Too late. He was down the hatch.

Ishimaru lay thrashing before him, straining against his belts, enveloped in blue flame. His limbs twitched disjointedly, a shaking finger pointed to the sky. His eyes were wide open and fixed at the ceiling, searing out of their sockets like possessed rubies. His hair was white.

A low rumbling began in his throat, like a death rattle.

Ishimaru was _laughing_.

Mondo leaped towards the bed and grabbed Ishimaru's shoulders, but the fire scorched his palms. Wincing, he reached under the mattress to wrap him up in the bedsheets, but Ishimaru caught his wrists in a crushing grip.

"Finally," he laughed, in a voice that was distinctly not Ishimaru's. "You came back for me."

The flames licked the bedpost. Mondo's eyes stung with smoke.

"Ishimaru, let go of me."

"I'm not Ishimaru. I'm Ishida."

"Ishimaru, you _HAVE_ to let go of me!"

" _Ishida_ says no!" He tossed Mondo off him, sending him sprawling to the ground like a rag doll. "You're an angel. You must be. You're here to save him. So I'll say this: Ishimaru doesn't deserve your sympathy. He doesn't need his life." He clawed at his hair, shoulders shaking. "But me? I've just been born. Now _I'm_ in his body, and I can do whatever I like to it."

Ishida pulled back his sleeve and peeled off his watch, revealing several long, thin scars on his inner wrist. To Mondo's horror, some of the markings were fresh. "I think Ishimaru would agree, wouldn't he?"

"I- Kiyotaka," Mondo pleaded. He was dizzy. The room was melting to the ground. "Leave with me. You're not safe here."

"Ishimaru's not going anywhere. I'm not letting him." Ishida's eyes flashed, and for a split second Ishimaru's cold, stony determination returned. "He created this game. He brought this all on himself. So he must see the consequences." Then the mania returned, and Ishida struggled against his restraints, teeth locked in a grin.

The first belt gave way, tearing clean through the middle. Then the second belt snapped, and Ishida was free. He lunged at Mondo, ripping off his jacket. "You're part of me, don't you know? _Ishi-da. Kiyo-ndo_."

The door was kicked down. Ishida disappeared down the hallway with the jacket over his shoulder, screaming and cackling. Mondo followed him. Then, a voice froze him in his tracks.

_"Who's there?"_


	4. Chapter 4

Mondo ducked into Ishimaru's room, heart pounding in his ears. The footsteps in the hallway grew louder.

" _I-Ishimaru-kun!_ Where are you going?" Naegi Makoto rushed past him. "What's going on?" Then he noticed the white hair, and gasped.

"I saw him!" Ishida's choking laughter echoed down the corridor. "I saw Mondo! He's an angel now! He asked me to leave with him! He loves me, Naegi-kun! Even after all _he's_ done!"

"Ishimaru-kun, Oowada isn’t here! If this is about what you saw this afternoon, it wasn't him! Ishimaru-kun, please tell me what's happ-"

"Don't call me Ishimaru. I'm not _him_. I'm Ishida!"

A pause, as Naegi seemed to put two and two together. He lowered his voice. "Where is he?"

"Right there…..." Ishida slurred, "watching over me." He gave a dreamy little giggle.

Mondo backed into the darkened bathroom just as Naegi crept through the door, picking up Ishimaru's kendo sword and extending it. "W-whoever you are….." his voice quivered, then hardened over with steel. "You're not Oowada. I know you aren't. A-and I won't let you hurt Ishimaru."

 _I won't let you hurt Ishimaru._ Mondo saw fire. His hands tightened into fists.

"Come on out. I’m not scared of you."

Naegi tiptoed towards the bathroom, and Mondo prepared to strike. His lip curled, and his heels dug into the ground.

Suddenly, Naegi dropped the sword. His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the floor, revealing Monokuma in the doorway with a sniper rifle. "Goodnight, lucky boy!"

Mondo stepped out. With his foot, he gently prodded Naegi in the side. He didn't move. "Monokuma." He took a deep breath. "Did you just kill him?"

Monokuma examined the rifle. "No, _I_ didn’t just kill him. _We_ just did."

Mondo lunged towards him and he squeezed his eyes shut in panic, holding a paw out to shield his face. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! It's a tranquilizer dart, it'll take him out for five hours! Jeez, you really can't take a joke!

" _Five hours?_ That's 6am! What do we do with him?"

"I don't know, tiger, tuck him into bed or something?"

"Where's Ishimaru?"

“Locked himself in the sauna.”

“......Yeah, I think I know.” Mondo lifted Naegi over his shoulder like a sack of rice. “Come on.”

They plucked the needle out of Naegi’s shoulder and deposited him outside the sauna, propping him up against the door. Mondo brought his fist to Naegi’s face and left a small bruise. “There. Now he’ll just think _Ishida_ knocked him out.”

“You just wanted an excuse to punch Naegi again, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, it’s a pretty good plan, _sir_. Maybe you’re not _completely_ dumb muscle.”

――

On camera, Ishida paced around the sauna with his arms wrapped around himself, swinging between idle babbling and anguished screaming. His eyes flared.

_“I’m g-going to make things better. N-nobody can get away from me. I’m the Supreme Commander, I’ve got armies now! Ha-ha-ha! I could….. make…... anyone do anything! But h-he…… he’s killed people. I’ve killed people who don’t deserve it. I can’t be Supreme Commander anymore! I s-should be hanged! Beheaded! Mondo’s here, Mondo’s here in me. My pet. Mon-chan, where are y-you? Oowada, come here, I’ve got someone for you to maul. It’s h-him…… it’s me……. I’m not him! I’m Ishida! I don’t want to die! I’m Mondo and Kiyotaka. I was b-born from the water. The world is beautiful……. pure and beautiful……”_

At 4:15am, as the final words of the Ultimate Order daily pledge swept through the top floors, Ishida collapsed from exhaustion. His hair reverted to black.

Mondo should have been satisfied. He should have been happy that he had embedded himself into Ishimaru’s soul, that Ishimaru couldn’t live without him, couldn’t get rid of him unless he bled out of consciousness. Hadn’t he traded in one world for another, Daiya’s head for Ishimaru’s heart, for this? The goal had been to drive him to madness, then cannibalize him like the starving animal he was.

When did _this_ begin? Was it when he started _remembering?_

The Mad Dog had no mind, no conscience. He thought nothing of the _past_. The pounding in his chest was the only thing that kept him on his feet, his only connection to life. So Mondo glanced at Ishimaru lying on the cold tile of the sauna, eyes squeezed shut and forehead wrinkled, and found that it chilled him. It slowed him down.

_Oowada-kun, what happened? What happened to you?_

Mondo’s muscles tensed. His pupils darted to and fro in the ghostly glow of his surveillance screens.

That had been a _voice_.

_Oowada-kun, watch out. Watch out._

He turned his head. In the center of the Control Room, framed by a wreath of pink and viscera, was the corpse of Fujisaki Chihiro. His eyes were open.

_Oowada-kun, I’m h-_

As quickly as it had happened, Fujisaki disappeared. The blood vanished, and Mondo was left in the darkness, teeth clenched, fingers braced on the console.

_It was nothing to worry about. It was a dream. The sun would rise soon. The sun would rise soon. It was a dream. He was seeing things. He wasn’t scared, he was never scared. He’d slaughtered so many people, this could never get to him. He didn’t run away. He wasn’t superstitious._

_The sun would rise soon, and this would all be over._

――

_Deep below the Presidential Palace, out of sight of the world and Ultimate Order, was a soundproof bunker. Into it Oowada would slink first, as if dragging his kill of the day behind him. Then Ishimaru would follow, shoulders squared, knuckles bent, arms crossed behind his back._

_It was the only place Mondo and Kiyotaka could actually call_ **_theirs._ ** _In it, across the checkerboard tiles, they danced circles around each other, claws and fingers entwined, biting and shuddering. Kiyotaka would trace his name on Mondo's back, and Mondo would sink his teeth into Kiyotaka’s shoulder._

_Mondo could have done it then. He could have taken one of the leather whips and braced it against Ishimaru’s throat, as the creature would eventually strangle civilization and take its place. Nobody would hear it happen._

_Why didn’t he do it?_

――

Around seven in the morning, Yamada Hifumi knocked on Celestia Ludenberg’s door. “My lady,” he twittered, “breakfast will be ready soon. _Pains au chocolat_ , with strawberry _tartines_. Would you like salted butter, my lady?”

Celestia pulled her lace-trimmed sleep mask off her head. “Yamada, my humble servant,” she began, in her curling accent. “Would you be interested in a suggestion of mine?”

“Oh? What…… do you have planned, my lady?”

“I may have found a way for us _both_ to escape. Would you be willing to cooperate?”

Down the corridor, Naegi Makoto woke up. Groggily, he pressed a hand to his cheek and yelped when his fingers sank into the bruise. _Why am I here?_ he mouthed. He fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie, hazel eyes distant.

Then it clicked, and he began pounding on the sauna door. “Ishimaru-kun!” he yelled. “Are you in there? Are you alright?”

For five seconds, there was a sickening silence. Then the door opened, and Ishimaru, pale as a sheet, tumbled onto the carpeted ground.

“Naegi-kun. W-why am I here? What…… happened?”

* * *

  
  


Ishimaru remembered nothing about Ishida, no matter how much information he tried to summon out of himself. Even when Naegi brought him back to his room and he noticed the broken belts on the ground. Now, in their corner of the dining hall, Ishimaru sat with a bowl of rice before him, back straightened and food untouched. Naegi set his glass of orange juice down.

“You…… you were running out of your room. You were saying something about…… Oowada. You said you saw him. You h-had white hair.”

“I must have seen him in a dream, then. I must have been unconscious. Naegi-kun, I apologize for troubling you-”

“Y-you were conscious! You spoke to me! You said something about Oowada and angels. You pointed me to your room. Then I went in, and……” Naegi trailed off. “I was there. Outside the sauna.”

“I must remember _something_ ,” Ishimaru muttered, eyes fixed upon the table. “I never forget. I have…… never forgotten.”

Mondo, with his feet up on the console, held up a finger. “Where’s Celestia?”

“She’s leaving the dining hall, sir-”

“Show me what she’s doing.”

“You’re in front of the buttons, aren’t you, boss? Do it yourself.”

Mondo gestured to his small pile of empty energy drink cans. “Jesus, I’m running on an hour here! I feel like a fuckin’ salaryman! Just show me where she is, alright? I think she’s up to something.” The chair creaked as he leaned back. 

The footage popped up. Celestia was climbing the stairs to the third floor, heels clacking. Her hands were clasped together, a serene smile painted onto her face. “This floor was opened yesterday, wasn’t it?” she mused. Behind her, Yamada puffed and panted, holding his T-rex arms out to keep his balance. “I-it was, my lady! Don’t tell me you’ve found an exit? Has the mastermind left you a-” His hands dropped to his sides. “A-are you the traitor, my lady?”

Celestia scoffed. She turned around and lowered her voice. “Of course not, I’m playing by his rules here. Haven’t you forgotten the only way to escape?”

“ _His?_ What do you mean by _his_ \- wait, you’re going to _kill_ someone?”

“ _Shh!_ ”

She crossed the third floor and stepped into the art room, Yamada following closely behind her. “Are you-” he began to back away. “Are you going to kill _me?_ ”

“No, I’m not, you silly goat. I’m here to give you instructions on _helping_ me. Are you any good with heavy, blunt objects?”

Yamada glanced at the wall, where several wooden hammers were lined up. “I could manage those. But, my lady, who is _he?_ ”

Celestia cupped her hand to her cheek. “Yamada, my accomplice,” she whispered. “Since I have trusted you with my plan, I will trust you with my theory. This may be a shot in the dark, but-” she drew a sharp breath. “I have reason to believe Ishimaru Kiyotaka is either affiliated with, or _is_ the mastermind of this Killing Game.”

Yamada’s jaw dropped.

There was silence in the control room, save for static and the crushing of aluminium as Mondo’s fist tightened around his empty can. Monokuma, crouched behind his chair, blinked at the screen.

“She’s onto us.”

“How did she get it? I don't even think _Kirigiri_ has any idea he’s-”

 **_“Monokuma.”_ ** Mondo’s shoulders heaved, and his breathing was ragged. “Shut the _fuck_ up.”

“She might have overheard the Supreme Commander in the s-”

**_“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”_ **

He slammed his palm against the console, and the Monokumas jumped back. Then again, and again, and again. His vision blurred, and blood and fire rushed behind his eyes.

_Naegi. Naegi had been outside the sauna, he had put him there. He might have heard him. Naegi knew. He might be in on this. Both he and Celestia knew. If she didn't get to him, he would. They’d kill Ishimaru. They’d kill him-_

Mondo’s head spun. He jammed down on a button, and footage from the dining hall surfaced on another screen. Ishimaru’s voice played through the speakers. “......wondering if you could keep an eye on me again tonight, Naegi-kun. To make sure I don’t…… escape.”

_He was trying to get rid of him. Celestia was trying to get rid of him. They were all ganging up on him. They all knew, they knew, they’d kill him._

He felt for his heartbeat. It thundered in his veins.

_Kiyotaka was all he had. Kiyotaka must be taken out of the game._

_At all costs._

* * *

  
  


" _Ishimaru?_ Him? He's _catatonic!_ He's incapacitated! And it definitely isn't an act!"

"Exactly, yes. As you said, he clearly isn't in the best condition. Thus, I also believe that his position is being filled by someone else at the moment."

"Then who could it be, my lady?"

"A dead man."


End file.
